The First Rule of Fight Club
by WistfulSin
Summary: HieiOC Oneshot my first OC is from my story. Iruni forces Hiei to watch Fight Club as part of a the Ningenkai experience. To his surprise he likes it, but there're more devious thoughts on the youkai's mind. M for some language. Slight fluff.


This is my first One Shot. It's HieiOC. And It's probably much more strange than I thought. If you haven't seen Fight Club then be aware there are spoilers and quotes.

* * *

"How can you spend any amount of time in Ningenkai, with boys no doubt, and not see _Fight Club_? It's one of the best movies ever made." Iruni Mikamoto was leaning against a brick wall, talking to the youkai above her. Hiei was sitting on the edge of the building safely tucked into darkness, just the way he liked it.

"I don't watch your mundane human media," he scoffed quietly.

"I'm just saying, you're missing out completely," she shrugged off the wall and started walking down the sidewalk, passing a few faceless people on her way. Nothing was tugging at her senses so she was going home. Koenma could kiss her ass if he thought she was wasting a perfectly good Saturday night on a pointless stake out. "It's a really good movie Hiei."

"You've said that about the last ten or so films you've mentioned," he jumped off the roof of a small flower shop and landed beside her, keeping her pace.

"They're all good. Maybe you should broaden your horizons." She suggested with a smile. He rolled his eyes. "You'd like it I bet. It's just your sort of film. Violence, mayhem, chaos, violence."

"What's it about?" he sighed, trying to get her to drop this subject would be pointless. He'd learned once Iruni got on about something she rarely stopped until someone gave in. Which meant tonight she'd probably watch this ridiculous human creation at least twice before becoming hyper and redubbing the scenes with her own commentary.

He'd watched over her home for about a week once, and she'd gone through that routine three nights in a row. Then there were those horrid games, with the plastic instruments and the off key singing. His skin crawled with the memory.

"Well, you see, it's about this one guy who hates his existence because it's dull, and he doesn't sleep. Then he meets this eccentric man on a plane and this girl at a cancer therapy session. His life spins out of control, his apartment blows up, and he and the new guy develop Fight Club," she explained with a shrug.

"What is Fight Club?" he blinked over at her. At least she wasn't taller than him.

"The first rule of Fight Club is you never talk about Fight Club," she laughed when he didn't get it. "Come on Hiei, humor me. Just watch it once and I'll never force you to watch another movie again. I'll never even ask."

"How about this," he wagered. "If I don't like it you have to do something I know you'll hate, and then you still can't ask me to do anything this irritating again."

"Whatever get's you on the couch," she grinned. "You'll like it, I promise."

"Hn. Whatever, I'm just going to enjoy coming up with something to get you back," he huddled in his cloak despite the heat, glaring at her. Ignoring his anger as usual she led the way back to her house, her stomach loudly rumbling the entire time.

* * *

"Why would someone want to be punched in the face?" Hiei asked her pointedly, staring at her instead of the television. She turned to meet his gaze with two raised eyebrows. "That's moronic."

"He just explained that. If you'd stop asking questions," she paused the movie for her lecture, "you'd get the plot line. He says you can't really know what kind of man you are if you've never been in a fight. Get it?"

"Hn." He turned to face the television set again and she hit play, scooping a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Even he had to admit, the girl packed away from food. Her demonic appetite had transcended all barriers.

The movie was dark, and the parts she laughed at were morbidly twisted at best. It was distracting, hearing her munch on her puffy snack and giggle to herself as she snuggled under a blanket. She'd changed into her sleeping clothes before she'd put in the little disk with the movie on it, and then like the last time he'd been over to her home, she'd placed herself as far away from him as the room would allow.

Standing quietly he crept up beside her, grabbing the large bowl of the crunchy, light looking treat she kept gorging on. This was her second bag since the start of the movie.

"Give my popcorn back," she demanded reaching for the bowl. Instead he turned away and took it with him back to the couch, tentatively tasting a small bundle. It was buttery, and salty. He liked it. He watched as the crazy young man with blondish hair poured something onto the other's hand, burning him. Now that was interesting. Hiei leant forward to get a better look as the man spoke about some philosophy of pain.

"You ate the whole bowl," Iruni muttered her complaint after the final gunshot rang through the warehouse. Watching the man shoot himself, then the other one die was confusing, but he liked it. The entire damn idea was confusing actually, he didn't really get the subtle things the girl had laughed at, but he understood the violence alright. And Project Mayhem. He understood that mentality all too well. A bright explosion rocked the screen lighting the room as Iruni shuffled back in.

He'd yanked her blanket from the chair she'd claimed while she was in the kitchen, wrapping it around himself instead of using the one on the back of the couch.

"Hiei," she warned dangerously grabbing the corner as the title screen came back on the television, marking the end of the movie.

"You have no reason to fear," he told her suddenly, making her raise an eyebrow. "It wasn't as god awful as I'd imagined it would be. But I didn't understand most of it, so I guess that counts in my favor."  
"It most certainly does not," she cocked her hip to the side, her hands on the slight curves. Then she reached down and grabbed the light green striped blanket again. "You can sleep on the couch if you really want to but give me back my damn blanket Hiei!"

"I don't want to sleep on your couch," he huffed at her yanking the blanket back so hard it made her stumble forward. She pulled back, jerking him off the sofa and onto his feet. He pulled back gaining more fabric. She pulled to no avail.

"Then sleep outside, but not with my blanket!" she breathed heavily, giving a slight grunt as she gave a hearty tug gaining her a few inches. The muscles in her legs were working to keep her upright when he pulled back again, completely visible under her mid thigh sleep shorts.

"No," he argued pulling it back his eyes flicking to the shorts. He hadn't realized they were covered in hearts before.

"I don't care where you sleep," she smiled until he grinned evilly and really gave it his all. The force had them tripping over the blanket and each other before landing awkwardly jumbled on the sofa. She was tangled up in the blanket as it snaked around her legs, preventing her from getting off of the small fire demon. Though she was trying he noted. "The couch, the floor, the tree in the park, I don't care. But if you really don't want to sleep outside, the sofa is more than open to you."

"Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns," he spoke without a smile, shoving the blanket into her hands without pushing her away, "I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may."

"What?" she blinked down at him wondering what he was talking about. "Wait a minute," she paused then glowered at him. "That's from the movie you no good punk."

"It's a practical line," he argued stubbornly.

"In order for something to be practical it has to be useful," she rolled her eyes trying to slip away from him. He grabbed her wrist beside his head and held on. "What are you doing?"

"I just used it, so it's useful."

"Are you holding me here to argue?" she demanded yanking the blanket completely away from him with her free arm then quoted. "You're not getting this back. I consider it an asshole tax."

"I don't get the ending. I need you to explain what happened," he finally smiled the slightest bit.

"Do I need to be on top of your for that?" she asked incredulously.

"It's easier for me to hear you," he shrugged easilysd.

"Tyler is his split personality," she rolled her eyes as she explained. "They were the same person, because he came up with him. That's what it's all about. Who people really are when they don't have themselves to hold them back."

"That doesn't make sense," he snorted.

"'It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.' That about sums up the whole movie," she shrugged. "There's a lot of wisdom in that film. I love it. It's probably my favorite."

"So, what about the chips?" he asked suddenly making her blink. The television screen was the only thing giving off light in the living room, since she'd turned off all the other lights to enjoy the film. The shadows did flattering things to her face, which was already complete with a rugged masculinity. She really needed to slip away now.

"What chips?" she asked curiously staring at him.

"The ones that we let fall," he told her seriously. She almost laughed but the way his crimson eyes held hers made her swallow the sound, and some other uncomfortable noises. "Where do they land?"

"Where they may," she told him slowly, not sure where this was going.

"I think I found one," he used his speed to get the best of her, flipping her over so that when his warm lips actually pressed against hers they'd switched positions on the small couch. Moving his head back she stared up at him in shock.

"Did you just-" she stammered, blushing a deep enough red to be detectable in the darkness.

"That wasn't it," he blinked furrowing his brow cutely. Then his expression smoothed, turning slightly sadistic, slightly warm as he accidently pressed play on the DVD player's remote. "I think I should keep looking."

* * *

"Hiei, what the hell took you so long?" Yusuke demanded as the small fire demon strolled up with his hands in his pockets. He'd left his cloak behind today for the chance to enjoy the warm air and sunlight. The smug grin on his face did nothing to explain to his team where he'd been. "We've been waiting forever! Where were you?"

"Detective," red eyes rolled up to meet irritated brown ones as he stopped beside his taller friend. Kurama and Kuwabara stared down at him too. He was in a good mood. How strange. "The first rule of Fight Club is you never talk about Fight Club."

The small demon continued to walk passed him then, his eyes closed and his grinning face titled up as the other members of the team exchanged a confused look behind his back. They all turned and stared at him before giving up on trying to figure it out, running to catch up to him, none quite aware they missing their fifth member.


End file.
